Dove On The Rocks
by Cerulean Pen
Summary: For an unique assignment, Bart and his female skateboarding rival, Misty, are forced to care for a young dove. Meanwhile, Marge and Lisa go rock climbing for a mother/daughter day, and end up getting lost. Bart/OC.


Dove On The Rocks

Summary: For an unique assignment, Bart and his female skateboarding rival, Misty, are forced to care for a young dove. Meanwhile, Marge and Lisa go rock climbing for a mother/daughter day, and end up getting lost. Bart/OC.

English Humor/Romance Rated: T Chapters: Words: Bart S.

Chapter 1:

Three Little Words

**a/n: **I have no idea where the title came from, but I definitely could see this as an episode…=) So, Bart and a girl that he used to skate with, Misty, must take care of a dove, as assigned by the new guidance counselor, Miss Murphy. Meanwhile, Marge believes that she and Lisa should form a strong bond with nature, and they go hiking through Springfield Gorge, but get lost when they discover Maggie took their map. Probably won't be very long, but the chapters will be…so, enjoy! ^o^

Bart had been asleep when _she _arrived. Ms. Krabbappel had officially given up on waking him up (actually, she never really tried that hard in the first place), and didn't bother as she walked the new girl in. Milhouse gaped in wonder at the girl, who was scanning the classroom, as if trying to place her position. "Okay children, this is Misty Evans, who has not only moved to central Springfield, but from lower-class to lower-middle-class. Take a seat next to Sherri."

Misty crossed her arms over her chest, squinting at the purple-haired girl, taken aback when she realized she had a twin. It was going to be difficult finding which one was Sherri. Milhouse leaned over, poking Bart in the arm. He lifted his head drowsily, a long, goopy thread of saliva trickling down his lower lip. "Hey Bart, she seems kind of familiar," Milhouse observed, pointing to Misty, who had given up locating Sherri, plunking down in the one unoccupied seat, diagonal from Bart.

"Oh. My. God." Bart twisted around in his chair so violently, his spine was nearly aligned with his legs. The ten-year-old girl already had curves and a nice chest, not-so-modestly hidden by her ripped, black T-shirt and jeans with holes cut in the knees. Her tangled, black hair was partially hidden by a dark blue skater hat, that was earning flirty stares from more then half the boys in the room. Just by gazing at her, Bart knew just who Misty was.

_Three Years Ago_

Seven-year-old Bart hesitantly placed a foot on the skateboard, nearly sliding down the street with no control. He was still getting used to riding, and had earned badges of pride-messy scabs on his elbows and knees. Bart took a deep breath, hopped on the skateboard, coasting down the hill, the sharp wind jerking tears from his eyes. With a scream of surprise, he wrecked into someone's yard, laying in their flower bed, looking up at the light blue spring sky in embarrassment.

"There's an easier way to do it, ya know."

Bart rolled onto his side, finding a girl his age, riding around on her driveway with a skateboard similar to his. Even at seven, girls appealed to him, and she caught his rapt attention, skating gracefully onto the curb, jumping onto the street, grabbing her board, returning smoothly over to him. He suddenly felt ridiculous with his pathetic attempt to ride downhill. "You aren't bad though. Someday, you could ride like Tony Hawk."

"And who are you?" Bart asked, getting to his feet and dusting off his shorts, avoiding talking about how good she was. The dark-haired girl chuckled, stomping on the edge of the board so that it flipped into her hands. Bart copied her action, accomplishing the same, although not quite as gracefully. "I haven't seen you on the street."

"My dad moved us," the girl said with a shrug, gesturing to the window, where a hefty man slouched asleep on the over chair, the TV the only thing lighting the dark living room. "I'm Misty Juliette Evans. I've been on a skateboard ever since I could keep my balance. You're actually pretty good, you just need some practice." Misty dropped her skateboard, immediately coasting back and forth in front of Bart. "I could help you."

"I'm Bart Simpson, I don't need help," he retorted, but Bart couldn't hide his grin. Misty folded her arms, smirking playfully at him. "But maybe we could ride together, and you can learn a thing or two from me." Bart shakily climbed back onboard, starting towards the street.

"Fine Bart Simpson, if you don't need help, then can you do this?" Misty took off, riding in circles around him, her raven-black hair flying in a glossy curtain behind her. She flipped onto the sidewalk, seeming to fly through the air, before landing in front of him, without a scratch on her.

Bart was admittedly impressed. He threw his own board down, using his foot to move it forward a few inches. "How 'bout that lesson?"

"Let's see if you can keep up!" Misty called over her shoulder, already yards away from him. Bart chuckled, riding down the street to catch up with her.

_Present Time_

Bart had been best friends with Misty for nearly a year, going to skate parks with her. He knew that her mother had left her family, and that her father didn't exactly treat her terrifically. Marge half-adopted her, inviting Misty to dinner, letting her come on family trips, treating her like her own child. Bart loved to see Misty at his house, happy and free; when she was doing some awesome jumps at the skate park, gliding through the air.

When he was eight, Misty suddenly moved away, no notice, nothing at all. Bart had been livid, enraged that Misty didn't even tell him, leaving him with nothing but the pictures in Marge's photo albums and the helmet they won over the internet, signed by Tony Hawk. Now, she was back, and Misty was prettier then ever, much to his chagrin. Bart didn't know if she would recognize him; he hoped she had just overlooked him, he did not want to deal with Misty.

Ms. Krabbappel yawned, her feet on her desk, smoking and drinking at the same time. "All right class, I'm going to take my smoke break earlier, so feel free to learn amongst yourselves." The class instantly began to murmur with one another, breaking into groups. Milhouse poked Bart once more, the spiky-haired boy having lost himself in a daydream.

"Bart, I'm serious, I've seen her before. Who is she?" Milhouse's Coke-bottle glasses reflecting Misty back to Bart as he turned to his best friend. Bart let his face harden, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Don't know, never seen her," Bart muttered, just as someone's shadow loomed over him. A rough pair of hands slammed down on his desk, a face pressing into his, Misty yelling his name. "D'oh!" he exclaimed, slapping a hand to his forehead. Milhouse looked on in interest as Misty grabbed Bart's shirt collar, pulling him closer.

"Bart Simpson! I can't believe you have the nerve to ignore after what you did to me! The state finally gets to send me to a school where the second-graders don't use crack, and you pretend I'm not there! I taught you to skateboard, I won you a helmet, and you steal my money! God, I could kill you right now," Misty seethed, shaking Bart as she spoke.

"What the hell? I didn't take your money! You just left," Bart argued, pushing her off of him. Up close, he could see the scar above her right eyebrow, which matched his nearly identically. They had taken a spill in the skate park after trying to do a jump at the same time: their boards had gotten tangled, and they received bleeding gashes on their foreheads. "Just leave me alone!"

Growling something incomprehensible, Misty stalked away, leaving Bart irate. Milhouse's eyes followed her dreamily, picturing the two of them out on the playground, holding hands under the jungle gym. Then, Lisa would storm over to them in a jealous rage, and Milhouse would get to watch them fight over him. "Gee Bart, I thought you would want to kiss her."

"Never," Bart spat, turning his head down and walking out the door. "I'm going onto the playground."

:::::

About twenty minutes later, Ms. Krabbappel had to get the class in order. Bart reluctantly came back to the classroom, after riding his skateboard around to clear his mind. He definitely didn't want to sit in the same class as Misty for the rest of the day-Bart was avoiding thinking about the rest of his fourth grade life, which could last forever. "Class, meet the new school counselor, Miss Murphy. She'll be giving you a lesson today." Ms. Krabbappel let her head drop to her desk, falling asleep.

Miss Murphy was a younger woman, in her middle twenties, with blonde hair that was heaped in a lopsided bun on top of her head, stylish eyeglasses, and a navy pantsuit. She set a denim duffel bag on the teacher's desk, yet still not awaking the near-unconscious Edna. "Hi kids!" she announced cheerfully. "I'm Miss Murphy, your guidance counselor! I'm here to help you guys sort out your feelings, meet new friends, and start choosing a path towards your career!"

Bart's head fell to his desk, just like his teacher's, and he began to snore.

"Now, we're going to have a little class project," Miss Murphy started, and the kids groaned. "Don't worry, this will be fun! For a week, everyone will care for a dove!" She dramatically pulled a sheet off of a birdcage, containing a small, white bird perched on a swing. "Instead of something hollow, like eggs or potatoes, everyone will be in pairs and look after a dove. A dove is alive, full of energy, but it also symbolizes peace."

At the word "partners", the class broke into pairs. Miss Murphy held up her hand, that giddy grin still on her face. "Sorry guys, but I'll be assigning you pairs. Let's see…Nelson, you're with Lily. Lewis, you're with Terri. Milhouse, you're with Sherri. Ah, Bart, you're with…Misty!"

Bart's head shot up so fast, a sharp pain sliced through his neck. "What? You can't pair me with her!" Misty blew a lock of hair out of her face, remaining silent as Bart ranted. "I refuse to take care of a dove with her!"

Miss Murphy's smile froze on her face. "Bart, honey, I think that you have a conflict with Misty, the two of you can solve it with taking care of this dove. It means peace, which the two of you need between you." Miss Murphy set a birdcage on Bart's desk, where the smallest dove flew around, feathers white as snow. "This is Gertie. I'm sure you and Misty will love her, and learn to love each other."

Bart shot Misty a deadly look that she only returned. He stuck a finger between the bars of the cage, letting Gertie peck at his nail. "At least you'll have some fun watching us fight."

:::::

Marge was filing the magazines when Lisa came home early. She sat down on the couch, sliding out of her backpack, placing it next to her. As Marge slipped an "Oprah" before People and after Newsweek, she noticed her daughter sulking. "Lisa, what are you doing home so early?"

Lisa sighed. "Ralph accidentally set our classroom on fire when he tried to sharpen his pencil, so Principal Skinner sent us home early. Think of all I'm missing now-reading time, the rest of science! What if we were supposed to learn something that would alter the course of my life? Oh my God, what if Bart missed the rest of his school day when he was my age, and turned into what he was?"

"Lisa, honey, calm down," Marge assured her, patting her shoulder before reaching over to go through the files. She pulled out a Sports Illustrated from February, where a pretty brunette woman and her daughter were beaming as they ascended the wall of a canyon. "Ooh! I've always wanted to try rock-climbing…"

Lisa continued to pout, but Marge was filled with glee as she took a seat next to Lisa, holding the magazine. "Sweetie, how would you like to have a mommy/daughter day? We could go rock-climbing at the Springfield Gorge! That could fun, we'd be close to nature, relying on each other. Maybe we could take a hike afterwards!"

Lisa considered this a moment, then smiled, giving her mother a hug. "Oh mom, that sounds like so much fun! I'll be able to make up for the science I'm missing! I'll go print a map of the gorge!" She raced towards her room, and Marge flipped through the rest of the magazine, turning to an article called "The Dangers of Rock-Climbing." But, with her thumb over the d, Marge saw "The Rangers of Rock-Climbing."

Marge put the magazine away, and went upstairs to change into her hiking outfit.


End file.
